


Holding Back the Flood

by Dont_Stop_Larry



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, Fingering, Hate to Love, Louis hates Harry, M/M, Penetration, Swimming AU, fucking against the wall, or so he thinks, regrets and confessions, wanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-01-18
Packaged: 2019-10-11 17:02:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17450885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dont_Stop_Larry/pseuds/Dont_Stop_Larry
Summary: Louis Tomlinson has always been the star of the Manchester Megalodons, beloved by his coach and looked up to by his teammates. He won’t stand for anyone stealing his limelight, especially Harry fucking Styles ...





	Holding Back the Flood

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fadedtoblack](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fadedtoblack/gifts).



> Happy Birthday, Laura! I love you and your beautiful face so much and I hope you enjoy this little story I whipped up for you. 
> 
> Disclaimer: because this fic was a two week process and not my usual six month process, I didn’t do a lot of research. My knowledge of swimming and teams and how they work are based on my mother’s recollections from her time on the team in high school and college in the United States, so please ignore any inaccuracies, I tried my best. Also, I’m really proud of the team name - only took me forever to come up with it. 
> 
> As always, thank you to my beautiful beta and friend Chloe for getting me through the end - I was at a loss till she came in and helped haha.
> 
> And with that, enjoy!  
> L xx.

“Styles comes in first, Tomlinson second, Richards is third!” The booming voice of his coach and the blow of the whistle were the first things Louis heard as he brought his head out of the water, and he slammed his fists down in frustration. He ripped off his goggles, looking over at the boy in the lane next to his. Harry Styles always managed to have that stupid smile plastered on his face, and it was particularly annoying after he’d just beaten Louis in a race.

 

Ever since Harry Styles had joined the swim team, Louis, formerly the best swimmer on the team, had been continuously beaten. Louis didn’t understand it. Harry was barely able to qualify for the team because of his age and yet here he was, all lanky limbs and chubby cheeks and hair curling out from under his cap, beating some of Louis’ best times. It made him irrationally angry, and his anger became worse as members of the team ducked under their lane dividers to clap Harry on the back. 

 

Louis hoisted himself out of the water, pulling his cap off and relishing the pain as it tugged a little at his hairline. He stalked over to the bench and pulled out a towel, drying himself off and sitting down with a thump as the next practice race began. 

 

He was just biting into a power bar when someone sat down next to him.

 

“Good race, Louis.”

 

Louis’ entire face heated up in anger and he turned only slightly to face Harry, who was shaking out his damp curls, a smile on his face. 

 

“Fuck off, Curly.”

 

He felt fury bubbling in his stomach as Harry’s smile only grew wider. “At least you and I are guaranteed spots in the Finals. No one has beaten our times - Coach will be pleased.”

 

Harry continued to ramble about numbers and how they didn’t really matter as long as the Manchester Megalodons made it to the Finals, and with every word, Louis got angrier, until he was on his feet, putting himself right in Harry’s face, despite Harry having at least two inches on him in height.

 

“What is it with you? Why are you so damn positive all the time?”

 

Harry looked taken aback but composed his features almost at once. “I was just saying that, in my opinion …”

 

“No one asked for your opinion. No one asked you to be on this fucking team. You’re too young to be competing with the likes of us. How about you just run along home to your mummy and let the real swimmers do the work?”

 

Louis was pleased to see the smile disappear from Harry’s face, his mouth hardening into a flat line and his eyes losing their usual brightness. 

 

“Quite the contrary,  _ Lewis _ ,” Harry spat his name out with so much venom, but Louis was far too used to it to care. “The coach asked for me specifically from my other team. He wanted  _ me _ to make his team better, which I seem to be doing, considering I’m beating you in almost every race. But I’ll do as you’re asking.” Harry shook some powder into his cap and snapped it over his head. “I’ll let the  _ real swimmers _ do the work.”

 

Louis’ mouth fell open as Harry stalked away to take his place for the next practice race, which was the 100m butterfly - Harry’s speciality. Louis clenched his fists and blew air out his nose, trying as hard as he could not to explode. He fucking hated Harry Styles.

 

“Close your mouth, Tommo, you look like a right twit.” Louis flinched and closed his mouth as Niall Horan, his best friend since primary school, appeared at his side. “What is it with you and Styles, anyway?”

 

“I just … I don’t like him, Niall. He gets under my skin.”

 

“Then don’t let him,” Niall said simply, offering Louis his Lucozade, which he drank half of just to annoy Niall. Niall sighed and walked off towards the rest of the team, and Louis toweled his hair dry, watching as Harry’s hand touched the wall and his head came up seconds before anyone else in the water, having won yet another race. The cheering followed Louis all the way into the locker rooms, where he threw his things into his locker forcefully, finding his clothes and slipping into them without a shower as some other members of the team made their way into the showers, laughing and joking around as they stripped down. Louis swung his bag onto his back and something hard and uncomfortable wacked him in several places along his back, places where his muscles were already tight from years of swimming and lifting.

 

“What the fuck …” Louis dropped his bag and opened it, finding six small five pound weights sitting at the bottom. He looked up across the locker room and caught Harry’s green eyes staring at him with mirth, his mouth quirked up in a smirk that sent Louis’ insides boiling. Louis bit down hard on the inside of his cheek and turned his back on Harry, muttering a string of curse words under his breath as he took each weight out of the bag and dropped them to the floor. He could hear Harry and a few of the other first year swimmers laughing as he exited the locker room, but his mind was otherwise occupied. He’d get Styles back for this.

 

___________________

 

“Coach, we’re missing someone,” Malcolm said loudly over the sound of the crowd filling the bleachers. Louis bit his lip and looked around, confirming that his plan was in motion.

 

“You’re right … where’s Styles? He’s up first for the 100m Butterfly!” The team looked around but Louis just kept his head down, not even catching Niall’s eye. He didn’t want to give himself away. “He better be here in the next five seconds, or I’m gonna-”

 

“I’m here, Coach, I … I’m … here.”

 

Louis turned with the rest of the team as Harry came hurrying over to them. The chuckles and squacks of laughter were enough to make Louis satisfied, but the look of embarrassment on Harry’s face as he walked into the middle of the group made it ten times more worth it. 

 

From his knees down, he had a series of colorful bandages, each covering what Louis knew to be a nick from his razor. Harry always waited until the last moment to shave, so that he would have the ultimate glide through the water, and Louis knew that. Naturally, that left him a huge opportunity to get Harry back for the weights incident. 

 

“What the hell happened to ya?” Coach asked, but even he was holding back a laugh. Harry’s face turned radish red and he mumbled, just loud enough for the team to hear,

 

“Must have been a bad razor or something. Didn’t want to bleed all over the deck.”

 

“Whatever, Styles, just get over to the block. It’s almost time to start. Malcolm, Jeff, you too. We’ve got the semi-finals to dominate.”

 

Louis turned to join Niall and the other members of the team who were up next for the 200m Freestyle, but he looked back, feeling Harry’s eyes burning into the back of his head. 

 

“You … fucking …” Harry grumbled, his face turning redder with anger, but Louis shrugged, smiling. 

 

“Don’t get too stressed out, now, dear Harry. You’ve got a race to do.”

 

“I’ll get you back for this …” Harry threatened, and Louis just laughed, walking away to stretch with Niall.

 

His good mood only increased that day as their team went on to win a majority of their races, placing most of the team in the Finals in their area. Coach was so pleased, he threw his clipboard down and gave them all a very awkward, very wet group hug. Louis didn’t even care that Harry had beaten him by .021 seconds in the 400m Freestyle. He was in the finals in every single one of his races, and Harry’s legs looked like he’d been attacked by a very angry cat. Nothing could bring Louis down. Nothing at all. 

 

_____________________

 

“Tomlinson and Styles tie for first place, Malcolm in second, Horan in third!”

 

Coach’s voice was music to Louis ears as he surfaced, a grin spreading across his face. Finally,  _ finally, _ he’d gained a bit of time on the entry and kept ahead for most of the race, nearly beating Harry. He pulled his goggles up onto his cap and looked over into Harry’s lane. Harry was smiling, accepting congratulations, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. He was pissed, and Louis knew it, and Louis didn’t give one flying fuck. 

 

He accepted Niall’s waiting hand and hoisted himself out of the pool, looking over as Harry climbed out himself. Water dripped off him as he stood to his full height, and Louis couldn’t help but notice how much thinner he looked. The tummy that had been the source of much of Louis’ teasing when Harry had first joined the team was gone now, replaced with solid muscle that rippled as Harry moved.

 

“Lou? LOUIS! Did you hear what I said?”

 

Louis shook himself out of his thoughts, shuddering at the fact that he could even  _ have _ such thoughts about someone as annoying and pretentious as Harry Styles, and focused on what Coach was saying. 

 

“... gonna need you to fill in on the freestyle laps of the relay cause Jacobs is out. Said he’s got a nasty bug. You’ll be with Styles, Horan, and Richards. Go on, get ready!”

 

Louis grimaced and walked slowly over to where Niall, Harry, and their other teammate, Luke Richards, were standing, discussing amongst themselves.

 

“That just leaves me to get that extra length on the entry and … Louis, what are you doing here? We’re trying to actually win Finals, not be bothered by your stupid jokes,” Harry huffed as Louis joined their little circle, and Louis rolled his eyes.

 

“Coach sent me to fill in for Jacobs. He wants me on the freestyle laps.” Niall grinned and Richards looked impassive, not really caring either way, but Harry’s face was reddening slightly and his hands were clenching at his sides. 

 

“We don’t need your help …” Harry growled, his voice rumbling deep in his chest. Louis shrugged. 

 

“Alright, but I don’t see how you can do a relay with three people … someone has to do that last lap.”

 

“I’ll swim both if I have to, I’d rather that than-” Harry began, but Coach cut them off with a sharp blow of his whistle, and Harry closed his mouth in a tight line, walking to their starting block and standing to one side to let Niall mount first. As the whistle blew again and Niall dove in, slicing through the water with practiced ease as he began his backstroke, Louis walked right up behind Harry and blew in his ear. Harry flinched and swatted Louis away. Louis laughed and stretched his legs out, preparing as Richards tagged off with Niall, speeding through the water with a beautiful breaststroke unrivaled by anyone on the team. 

 

“You better not fuck this up, Louis. This is my race, and if you ruin it for me, I’ll …”

 

“You’ll what? Put weights in my bag again? Honestly, Harry, that was a bit pathetic. I’m sure even you can do better than that, Mr. Perfect.”

 

Harry was up on the block now, ignoring Louis completely, but Louis could see his mouth twitching at the side, itching to spew out more insults. Instead, he launched himself off the block, entering the water with hardly a splash as he started the butterfly.

 

Focusing now, Louis mounted the block and waited until he saw Harry turn at the other end of the pool before entering the starting position. As much as he hated Harry, and as much as Harry hated him in return, neither of them wanted to lose. They took swimming seriously - it was the one thing they had in common. 

 

Harry’s fingertips had barely touched the wall beneath him before Louis was soaring over him, feeling the water surround his body. He kicked hard, forcing himself to the surface, and then he was in his element. Freestyle was his everything - he could do it in his sleep. When he was swimming, he felt invincible. Nothing in the world bothered him - not the other swimmers, not Harry and his annoying ability to always be happy-go-lucky about everything, not Harry and his perfect hair and pretty eyes. He flipped and pushed himself back to the surface, turning his head to breathe as he let all thoughts wash away. He could do this. He was going to win. 

 

His hand touched the wall and his head was out of the water, squinting at the scoreboard through his goggles. He had finished 2 seconds before any other team - the fastest relay of the entire team to date. He grinned and felt two people hauling him out of the water, clapping his back and hugging him around the neck. He thought he caught a mouthful of curly hair, but he was probably mistaken. Harry would never hug him, even if they had just won their race and beaten the best time. 

 

He finally disentangled himself from the mound of boys and followed the crowd to the locker room, glad that another practice was over. One more week and they’d be at Finals, and then Louis could relax for a bit. He really needed that.

 

Louis sighed as he stripped down and let the hot water of the showers cascade down his back. It felt so good and relaxed his aching shoulders. He didn’t have any qualms about being naked in front of the rest of the team - they all shared one giant communal shower and were naked in front of one another all the time. It was something you just got used to as a swimmer.

 

Louis opened his eyes and scanned the showers, wondering if Niall had already headed home - he had been meaning to ask him if he wanted to grab some dinner. His eyes landed on Harry then, just two shower heads away from him. 

 

Louis has seen Harry naked many times since the start of the season. It was almost as if Harry was more comfortable nude than he was in clothes, but that hardly mattered. It wasn’t like he was seeing anything new. Harry was, however, more endowed than the rest of the team, that was for sure. Even Louis, who was large himself, felt self conscious as he watched Harry’s lean muscles move under his skin as he washed the pool water off himself. 

Harry’s gaze met Louis’, and though Louis wanted to look away, he found he couldn’t break the stare. Harry’s eyes were wide and dark, and Louis could have sworn he saw them flicker up and down his body once. Harry turned slightly pink and looked away again, sticking his face into the hot stream of water. 

 

Louis felt like butterflies had suddenly decided to nest in his stomach, and he could feel himself starting to grow hard. He smacked his own face a couple times and turned resolutely away from Harry. It didn’t mean anything, of course. Louis was just horny and alone and Harry was pretty to look at. No use denying that. 

 

Louis finished washing up, picked up his Speedo from the floor, and headed for his locker, desperate to change into his warm joggers and jumper. Lately, the weather had been a bit colder than usual, and Louis hated being cold more than anything. 

 

When he reached his locker, however, his bag was empty. No clothes, no shoes, not even his boxers were there. He looked around, but everyone else was in the showers or already heading out. 

 

“Ni, have you seen my stuff?” Louis asked.

 

“Nah, mate, only just got back here. Why?”

 

“My clothes are gone … my shoes too. I don’t get it, I know I brought them …” Louis mused, searching his entire locker and the one on either side before huffing and plopping his bare ass down on the bench. He watched as each member of the team dressed and walked out, and Niall stayed behind to help him look, but eventually, he was going to be late for work, and had to leave, which left Louis alone in the locker room with no clothes and a damp Speedo in his hand. 

 

Louis knew it was Harry. It had to be, no one else on the team would have dared touch his stuff. But Harry had a personal space issue with Louis, apparently. This wasn’t the first time he’d been in Louis’ bag. 

 

Louis grimaced as he pulled on his Speedo once more, at least wanting to be contained as he walked to his car and froze his ass off. 

 

He exited the building and almost debated just going back inside and sleeping in the locker room - the gust of cold wind that hit him as the door closed behind him made every pore in his body scream in protest. He curled in on himself and hunched over, searching for his car with his eyes so he could make a run for it. He finally spotted it, pulled his keys out of his empty bag, and sprinted for his car, the wind roaring in his ears. 

 

He reached his car and stumbled over something sitting by his door. He looked down and saw his shoes laying there. The rest of his clothes had been tied to each handle on each door of his car, and in the frost covering his windshield, there was a small ‘H .xx’ written. Louis very nearly screamed as he pulled all his clothes from the various part of the outside of the car and slipped inside. He slammed the door and blasted his heat, his whole body numb and shaking. He really hated Harry Styles, but what he hated more is that he hadn’t come up with the idea first. 

 

________________________

 

When Louis finally got home, it took him a few hours to finally regain the feeling in his feet. He had taken the world’s longest hot shower, eaten a quick dinner of leftover pasta, and crawled under every blanket he owned, scheming about how he was going to get Harry back for this. 

 

Of all people, Louis had never thought that Harry could be so devious. His comment about the weights must have driven Harry to this, and although he was still furious and still cold, he couldn’t help but be impressed. It had been well thought out - a plan worthy of himself, Louis thought savagely as he curled into a tighter ball, determined to regain all warmth he’d lost in Harry’s little joke. 

 

Harry had changed, Louis had to admit. He’d come to the team nearly four months ago, all bright eyes and chubby cheeks and floppy hair, and Louis had laughed at him at every possible opportunity. He was just so easy to pick on, and he never fought back, even when Louis goaded him for the entirety of practice. But then he’d started training with them, and his baby fat had morphed into defined abs and broad, muscular shoulders and the sharpest jawline Louis had ever seen. And with that came a sharp wit that Louis would have never guessed Harry had under all those easy smiles. Harry’s transformation into what Louis would consider a real swimmer had been nothing short of a miracle, and Louis couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed any of those changes until today. 

 

His mind drifted back to the showers, back to the picture of Harry standing under a steady stream of water, his hands brushing his soaking wet curls out of his eyes, his long torso leading its way to even longer legs, and … and …

 

Louis whined as he realized he was hard, harder than he’d been in a long time, and it was because of Harry Styles of all people. He sat there stubbornly, his arms folded resolutely across his chest, ignoring his erection in the hopes that it would go down, but it didn’t. His brain was fixated on Harry, on his perfect body and even more perfect cock, and it wasn’t long before the blankets had been discarded on the floor along with Louis’ boxers. 

 

“Oh … oh, god,  _ Harry _ ,” he whispered as he finally got a hand on himself. He hadn’t had anything to jerk off to other than the occasional trip to PornHub in the last few months … just the thought of Harry’s chest alone was enough to make him come all over himself. He tugged harder, flicking his thumb over the wet head of his cock, and he made a choking sound, closing his eyes and imagining that it was Harry who was jerking him off - Harry, with those comically large hands that he was finally starting to grow into.

 

Louis’ hips bucked up into his hand, a light sheen of sweat now covering his body. Small whines were escaping his throat with every movement of his hand, and he hoped that Harry would like those sounds and not think they were girly, like his last boyfriend had.

 

“I … I’m close, fuck,” Louis moaned to no one, his hand flying over himself as the pressure built up to a climax. Louis nearly screamed as he finally came, strings of it shooting up almost to his nipples. It took him almost five minutes to come back to himself, and when he did, he suddenly felt a wave of emotion crash over him that was even more confusing than it had been in the locker rooms earlier that day. He stood quickly and cleaned himself off in the bathroom, changing the sheets on his bed, even though they weren’t at all dirty, and throwing them in the wash. 

 

He sat on his unmade bed then, forcing away all thoughts of Harry, even ones of getting him back for the clothing stealing. Right now, he just wanted to forget everything that had happened and sleep. Maybe he’d wake up feeling normal again. 

 

______________________

 

“Mate, you know Harry might actually kill you this time,” Niall said knowingly, but Louis steadfastly kept his eyes on the goggles in his hand, which he was busy poking small holes into with a mini screwdriver he’d found at home. 

 

“Niall, he stole my clothes on the coldest fucking day of the year and tied them to my car. I had to run out there in my Speedo. I don’t think you understand - I’m pretty sure my toes haven’t regained all of their feeling.”

 

“Bullshit - though I would have paid any amount of money to see you running to your car with your junk basically hanging out,” Niall retorted with a laugh, and Louis chucked the screwdriver at him, having finally finished with the goggles. 

 

“He’s gonna be sorry he ever messed with me. He deserves much worse than this, trust me.” Louis walked over to Harry’s bag - Harry was still using the bathroom - and shoved them back into the pocket he’d pulled them from. He then checked that his other surprise was intact and grinned to himself. Today was going to be a good practice. 

  
  


“Styles, what’s the problem? You’re falling behind!” Coach screamed as Harry came in fourth on his third race. Louis turned to watch as Harry ripped his goggles off his face, clearly frustrated.

 

“My goggles keep filling with water. Sorry, Coach, I’ll do better,” Harry huffed, examining his goggles as he had done after every race so far. Louis engaged himself quickly in a conversation with his teammate, but he knew Harry suspected him, even if he didn’t know what Louis had done quite yet. 

 

Practice went on as usual, other than Harry losing and Louis coming in first again and again. Louis was practically vibrating with happiness as Coach praised his times and ignored Harry completely. Harry wasn’t ignoring him though. He was staring at him, but as Louis caught his gaze, he didn’t see anger there. He saw confusion, and maybe a bit of sadness, which confused him so much that he just bother. He bounced his way to the locker room, pleased with himself. 

 

One of the school’s many dances was that night, so most of the team was hurrying to get out of there so they could get back to the dorms or home to change and pick up their dates. Louis, however, wasn’t even bothering to go. He had too many episodes of Grey’s Anatomy to catch up on, and he had plenty of wine to keep him company. 

 

He tilted his head back and let the hot water wash over him, determined to get as warm as possible before going home. By the time he was finished, most of the team had gone, and Harry finally entered the locker room. Louis made his way slowly back to his bag, keeping one eye on Harry as he examined his goggles, his long fingers running over the surface of them. His hands paused and he turned them over, finally spotting the hole that Louis had poked in the side of the lens. His shoulders fell and he looked like he was deflating as he reached for his bag.  Louis felt satisfied, but it was mixed with something else, something he’d never experienced in all his time tormenting Harry - regret. 

 

But now wasn’t the time for that - there was still the surprise he’d left in Harry’s bag. He pulled his clothes out and had just started to get dressed when he heard Harry’s voice. 

 

“What … is this  _ sand _ ?”

 

Louis held back a chuckle and poked his head around the corner, keeping as straight of a face as he could. “Something the matter, Harry?”

 

Harry’s head snapped up and his eyes grew dark and menacing at the sight of Louis. Louis came into full view, suddenly feeling a little nervous, and then, without warning, he was pressed up against the lockers, Harry’s furious face inches from his own. 

 

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Why can’t you just leave me be like everyone else? What did I ever do to you to deserve being treated like your little toy?”

 

“You came onto this team and showed me up, that’s what. I was the golden boy, and then you just swooped in here, a complete nobody, and stole my thunder.” Now that he was saying it out loud, it sounded kind of lame and juvenile, but it was how Louis felt. And for some reason, Harry’s fingers digging into his arms and pinning him to the lockers made him want to tell the truth. 

 

“What are you, ten years old? Grow the fuck up, Louis.”

 

“Oh, fuck off, Harry,” Louis grumbled, trying to free himself from Harry’s grasp.

 

“No,  _ you _ fuck off. You have  _ no _ idea what I had to go through to get where I am, and you have no right at all to complain about losing to me. Maybe you just need to fucking work harder instead of spending your time playing stupid pranks on the new kid.”

 

Louis opened his mouth, but no words came out. Harry’s cheeks were reddening in his anger, his pupils very nearly taking over his entire iris. His shouts were still echoing in the empty locker room, and Louis couldn’t help it - Harry’s deep, angry voice was turning him on. 

 

Louis struggled more now, trying to get away from Harry, but Harry slammed him against the lockers once more. Louis’ skin tingled where it hit metal. 

 

“Did I say I was done?”

 

Harry was now so close to Louis that he could see every detail of his face - his smooth skin with barely a hint of stubble, his jawline, the ghost of a dimple that was normally a crater in his cheek, and his lips … his perfectly shaped, very pink lips …

 

“It’s people like you that make me want to tear my hair out, you know? Things come so easily for you - you’re liked, you’re talented, you’re gorgeous, every fucking person wants to be you. But not me. I don’t like being handed things like you, I prefer to work for them, and maybe if you were less of a pretentious asshole, then you’d see that I-”

 

Before Louis even knew what he was doing, he surged forward and pressed his lips against Harry’s slightly parted ones. Harry went absolutely still and then tore himself away, his lips now wet with Louis’ spit as well as his own, his expression unreadable. 

 

“What the  _ fuck  _ was that?” Harry almost screamed, which made Louis even more angry than he already was for allowing himself to get caught up in the moment. 

 

“You wouldn’t fucking shut up,” he said simply, and Harry just stood there, arms limp at his sides. Louis knew he could move away now, run to his car and forget this ever happened, but something kept him there. “Well, I guess we’re done here. I’ll just go, then …”

 

Louis had barely moved when Harry was in his space. Louis could feel two large hands cupping his face as Harry pressed him roughly back against the lockers, and then they were kissing. 

 

Harry’s hands tangled in his hair and Louis whined into Harry’s now open mouth as Harry tugged on the hair at the base of his neck. Harry’s lips were sinful, full and plump and wet, and Louis couldn’t get enough of them. Harry’s mouth tasted like something cherry flavored, and Louis licked into it greedily, trying to drink all of Harry up in that one moment. 

 

“God, you’re fucking insufferable,” Harry growled against Louis’ mouth, and Louis felt Harry’s hips pressing against his. He could feel how hard Harry was, and it only made him harder. He rutted his hips against Harry’s, desperate for some kind of friction, and Harry’s answering moan rumbled low in his chest.

 

“Harry … fucking  _ do _ something,” Louis groaned, pulling Harry closer to him and pressing their chests together. Harry’s was still cold from the pool, but it soothed Louis’ burning skin. Everywhere Harry had touched or was touching felt like it was on fire. 

 

Louis squeaked slightly as Harry’s hands dug into his ass, lifting him against the lockers. “Gonna fuck you against the wall. And you’re gonna take it just like I take all your bullshit, got it?”

 

“God, yes, anything, Harry,  _ please _ …” Louis was begging now, a new thing for him, but he had never been more desperate for anything in his entire life. Harry’s arms were solid, very unlike the undefined noodle arms he’d appeared with months ago. Louis wrapped his arms around Harry’s neck and moved his lips over his jawline and down onto his neck. He nipped at Harry’s collarbone, and Harry pulled back, shaking his head, his curls getting in his eyes. 

 

“No biting. You have to be good for me. Can you do that?”

 

Louis nodded, feeling the precome that was now smearing between their stomachs where his cock was trapped, hard and desperate for release.

 

“Harry, Harry, Harry,” Louis mumbled over and over again, his voice growing higher and louder as Harry’s finger ghosted over his dry hole. His hips bucked up against Harry’s toned stomach, a choked off whine making its way up Louis’ throat. 

 

“Gotta get stuff. Get on your hands and knees and open yourself up for me,” Harry said firmly, putting Louis down a lot more gently than he had been handled thus far. Louis did as he was told, dropping immediately to the cool, tiled floor and sucking on a finger before reaching behind himself. It had been quite a long time - he usually preferred to be the one giving, but today, he needed to receive. He heard Harry rummaging through his bag as he pressed one finger into himself. The angle was terrible and he could feel his shoulder straining, but he didn’t care. He wanted to be good - and he wanted to be fucked. 

 

He had two fingers in and was whimpering, thrusting into air, by the time Harry came back, a foil square and a small packet of lube in his hand. Louis felt Harry kneel down next to him and felt his lips on his ear as he whispered.

 

“Gonna make you feel so good, Tomlinson, you got that? You’re not gonna be able to walk tomorrow - every step will be a reminder that I had you at my mercy. You want that?”

 

“Yes, yeah, want that,  _ fu-ck _ ,” Louis choked on his own words, desperate for Harry to touch him. He pulled his fingers out and wiggled his bum backwards, and the sharp slap to his skin that followed was enough to make him collapse against the floor, both in shock and desperate for more. 

 

“That wasn’t very nice, now was it? You be good or I’ll leave you here like this for the team to find tomorrow,” Harry threatened, his voice low and gravelly, but his hands were finally on Louis’, his fingers running over his hips and his ass, and Louis had no thought for anything else. 

 

“Up you get, then, come on,” Harry said in a deadly calm voice, and Louis was on his feet in seconds, flattening himself up against the lockers, ignoring how painful it was to have his cock smashed between his own stomach and the cold locker door. He carefully put one hand on each cheek and pulled them apart, presenting himself to Harry, and Harry’s answering moan was enough to make Louis come. But he didn’t - he wanted to be good.

 

“Oh, Louis, you have no idea how beautiful you are, do you?” Harry whispered, and Louis felt Harry’s hands on his hips, kneeling down behind him. He felt Harry’s lips on his right cheek, then his left, and then right over his exposed hole. The sound that came out of Louis’ mouth was one he’d never made before, but it fit what he was feeling as Harry’s tongue swiped several times over his hole, just teasing. 

 

“S-stop fucking with me, Styles, and get on with it,” Louis growled, and he received yet another blow to his ass, though he suspected that Harry knew that’s what he was angling for and had rewarded him. 

 

Louis heard the rip of the foil package and Harry’s quiet moans as he pulled the condom onto himself. “If you’re sure you’re ready. I’m pretty big.”

 

“Yeah, I’ve noticed,” Louis mumbled, and he felt Harry press up against his back, his cock nestled in the curve of his back. 

 

“I bet you have,” Harry’s words made Louis’ entire body go momentarily numb, and then he felt Harry’s tip nudging at his hole, and everything else left his mind at once. 

 

Harry slid in very slowly, the glide of the lube not enough for Louis’ extremely tight hole. It was painful, much more so than Louis had been expecting, but he didn’t care. He relished it, he wanted more of it, and he babbled and begged until Harry’s hips were pressed against his ass.

 

“Move,  _ move _ , damn it, don’t just stand there,” Louis yelled, his voice high pitched and needy, and Harry obliged, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back in. Louis’ body hit the locker doors, but he didn’t even register the pain. All he could feel, see, hear, or smell was Harry. He was surrounded, drowning in him. He never wanted it to end. 

 

“You deserve this, Louis. You deserve to be taught a lesson, to feel this pain for days. You’ve treated me like shit, and now I’m gonna make you remember me in more ways than one.”

 

“Only fucked with you cause … cause I was jealous …” Louis gasped against the locker door, Harry’s cock pounding into him and forcing the secrets out. “Wanted to be the star again, but you’re … you’re so good,  _ fuck me _ …”

 

Harry’s movements became faster, and Louis could feel his orgasm approaching, a lot faster than he would have liked, but Harry just felt so good …

 

“Harry … oh, god, gonna come, I’m gonna come,” Louis warned, trying to find something to hold on to, but there was nothing but the smooth expanse of locker doors. 

 

“Me too, I’m … shit, I …” Harry’s voice was so deep now, Louis could barely hear it, but it was the first time Harry seemed to be losing control, and Louis loved it. He loved hearing how good he was making Harry feel. 

 

Harry’s hips stuttered and Louis felt his release in his whole body. He shuddered, pushing himself as far back on Harry’s cock as he could, and came, completely untouched, painting the ugly green of the lockers with pearly white. 

The only sound in the locker room was heavy breathing as both of them came down from their highs. Harry pulled out slowly and Louis gasped at the loss of his cock. There wasn’t a word spoken as both of them cleaned themselves up and got dressed. Louis began to walk away, but something made him look back. Harry was sitting on the bench, his head in his hands, and Louis felt his heart fall at the sight. For the first time in his life, he wanted to go back, to pull Harry into a hug and tell him that it was okay, but he didn’t. He wasn’t sure any words would come out even if he tried. He turned and left without saying anything, wallowing in a mix of regret and yearning.

 

He reached his car and settled in the driver’s seat, but he didn’t start it, despite the cold. He just sat there, staring into the darkness, until he, almost subconsciously, picked up his phone and dialled. 

 

“Hey, Tommo, what’s up?” Niall’s cheery voice answered from the other end, and hearing it forced Louis into a full realization of what had just happened and what he was feeling. Taking in large gulps of air, he uttered the seven words he never thought he’d say.

 

“I think I’m falling for Harry Styles.”

 

______________________

 

“Tomlinson, stay back, would ya?” Coach asked, and Louis pulled himself out of the water, shaking the excess from his head and walking in the opposite direction of his teammates. He caught a glimpse of Harry, but the moment their eyes met, Harry looked away. Louis tried to ignore the dull pain in his gut as he turned to face his coach. 

 

“Yeah, Coach?” Louis asked, and Coach paced back and forth, looking back and forth from his clipboard to Louis until he came to a stop, taking a deep breath. 

 

“Jacobs isn’t gonna make it to Finals. Which means I need you to take his spot in the relay.”

 

Normally, Louis would have accepted on the spot and thanked his coach profusely for giving him another opportunity to win something for his team, but not this time. He felt his face heating up, and he shook his head. 

 

“I … I don’t know if I can.”

 

“And why not?” Coach asked, a steely glint in his eye that made Louis almost sure that his next words wouldn’t have any effect on Coach’s decision whatsoever. 

 

“I’m not sure if I’m a right fit for that relay team, that’s all,” Louis said slowly, choosing his words carefully. In all honesty, the thought of having to work with Harry after they’d been steadfastly ignoring each other since that night in the locker room wasn’t very appealing.

 

“You seemed like a perfect fit when you beat every relay time we’ve done in the last few years just on a practice run. Don’t worry about that, Tomlinson, you’ll do fine. You’ll win us that trophy, that’s for sure.”

 

“Yes, sir. Of course, sir.”

 

Louis made his way to the locker room, tugging off his cap and goggles. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe this would be an opportunity to talk to Harry, tell him how he’d been feeling the past week about what they’d done. Talking to Niall about it just wasn’t the same - there was only so much Niall could say before he was repeating himself.

 

When he entered the locker room, most of the team had already gone, leaving just a few stragglers who’d wanted longer time in the showers. Louis didn’t see Harry anywhere, and he sighed, heading for his bag and tugging his joggers and sweatshirt out of it. He didn’t really feel like getting a shower, not here, anyway. He just wanted to go home and, as Niall had so delicately put it the other night, “wallow in your lovey dovey shit”. Louis wasn’t quite sure he’d put it that way, but Niall was always blunt about these types of things. 

 

He had just pulled on his shoes and swung his bag onto his shoulder when he heard a noise, and he turned, almost walking right into Harry.

 

“Oh … hi,” Louis breathed, cursing himself for being unable to come up with something better than that. 

 

“Hi.”

 

Harry’s toes were pointed in and his hands were clasped neatly in front of him. He looked a lot smaller to Louis.

 

“So … what’s up?” Louis tried, aiming for casual sounding but landing more on the side of desperate. He really hated himself. 

 

“I, uh, wasn’t really sure how to … you know, since our, um, what we did … what happened,” Harry stuttered, and Louis’ heart fluttered. Harry could be so endearing when he wasn’t trying to get Louis back for all his stupid pranks. Louis waited, sure that Harry had more to say, and after a moment, he continued, his voice quieter now. “I … I just wanted to say that we, umm, we probably shouldn’t … you know, cause we’re on the same team, and I don’t want things to get messed up, and Finals is in, like … three days. Umm …”

 

Louis wasn’t sure how he was going to respond to that, especially considering the fact that his throat had closed up at Harry’s first words. He wasn’t even sure what he’d expected to happen. It’s not like he and Harry could ever have anything, not with swimming and their whole vendetta against each other that literally everyone knew about. But that didn’t stop Louis’ heart from feeling like it had been run over by a truck. 

 

“Don’t worry about it. It’s all good,” Louis said, his voice coming out a lot breezier than he’d expected. “Was just a one time thing, eh? Let off some steam and all that. That’s cool. Wasn’t really looking for anything anyway.”

 

Harry’s lips parted, like he wanted to say something, and Louis looked away, focusing instead on Harry’s bare feet. 

 

“Oh … okay.”

 

Louis nodded, praying that the tears he felt in his eyes would stay there until he was alone. “So yeah, see you at practice tomorrow, then?” Harry nodded, his eyes wider than usual, and Louis turned to leave, suddenly remembering something. He reached into his bag and pulled out the brand new pair of goggles he’d picked up on his way to school that morning. He held them out to Harry, who just stood there, staring at him. Louis shook them a bit and Harry reached for them, their fingers brushing just barely and sending tingles up and down Louis’ arm. He hated it. “Here. For the ones I messed up. I’m sorry. It was a dick move and I know how expensive goggles are, especially good ones like these.” Harry looked from the goggles to Louis, not saying anything, and Louis just felt worse. “Oh, and by the way - Coach put me on your relay team for the Finals. Just so you know. Later.”

 

Louis practically sprinted from the locker room, the sensation of hot tears rolling down his cheeks in strong contrast to the bitter wind outside. He hadn’t expected anything at all - and yet, he’d expected everything. 

 

___________________

 

“Louis, would you please snap out of it and listen to me?”

 

Louis, who had been trying so hard not to stare at Harry in the locker room that his eyes were screwed shut, raised his head and focused on his best friend. “What? Sorry, mate, I was, umm …”

 

“You weren’t paying attention, that’s what. I was asking you if five packs of beer was enough for all of us for the night, or if I need to run out before coming to yours for the party and get more?”

 

“We don’t even know if we’re gonna win, Niall,” Louis said, averting his eyes as Harry walked past their lockers. His gesture didn’t go unnoticed. 

 

“Alright, forget the beer, what the hell is going on with you and Styles? I know you said you were, you know, in love with him,” he whispered the last part, which Louis was very grateful for. He definitely didn’t need the whole team knowing he had the hots for the new kid. “But I thought you guys were going to talk about this.”

 

“I wanted to. I tried, but I couldn’t think of the right words. I look at him and all I can do is stare and gape like a fucking fish. And besides, if what he said the other day is true, he doesn’t want anything to do with me as far as relationships or whatever. I just … I can’t get him out of my head, Niall.”

 

Louis hated himself for admitting to all of that, but what else could he do? It was crushing him to keep it inside - he had to tell someone, and at least Niall was easy to talk to. 

 

“Well, you need to try again. Try as many times as it takes until you work this out. Cause let me tell you, Harry might seem like he doesn’t care or whatever you think, but he’s miserable. Don’t look at me like that, I spend a lot more time with him than you. Something’s seriously got him down, and I doubt it has anything to do with the fact that the vending machines are all out of his favorite granola bar.”

 

Louis pulled his cap out of his bag and clapped some powder into it, tugging it down over his hair. He then reached for his goggles and snapped them into place a little harder than he usually would, trying to get his head on straight. It didn’t matter if Harry liked him or not. It didn’t matter that Harry had basically told him that nothing would ever happen between them. It didn’t matter that he’d had the most mind-blowing sex of his life a week ago and it had meant nothing to Harry and everything to him. He couldn’t do anything about that. This was Finals. If they did well, they might even win the overall prize for most wins on a team. It was more an honorary thing and bragging rights than anything, but they got medals, and Louis was determined to win. At least he could do something about swimming. And maybe, just maybe, if they won the relay, Harry might hug him. And if that was all he could get, then he’d take it. 

 

_____________________

 

It was like they could do no wrong. Race after race after race, the Manchester Megalodons were shaving seconds off their own best times, meaning they were miles ahead of everyone else. Louis won his race and was so relieved that he’d launched himself into the lane next to him to hug Niall and had almost gotten himself tangled in the lane divider.

 

Harry had won his race, but he didn’t even crack a smile as he climbed out of the pool, rolling his shoulder. Louis immediately was concerned, and almost went over to ask Harry how he was, but he couldn’t make himself move. Harry probably didn’t want to see him, anyway. 

 

Finally, it was time for the relay. Louis stood by the block with Niall and Richards - they were only waiting on Harry. 

 

Louis was looking around, observing the other teams and the crowd and the scoreboard at the other end of the pool space, when he heard Harry’s name, and he focused in on the conversation. 

 

“Saw him headed over to the medics a few races ago. His shoulder’s been bothering him for a while, but he never said anything,” Richards was saying to Niall, and Niall caught Louis’ eye, knowing he was listening. 

 

“Is he gonna be okay to swim?” Niall asked, taking the words right from Louis’ mouth, and Richards shrugged. 

 

“Coach hasn’t come over in a red-faced panic, so I’m gonna say yes.”

 

At that very moment, Louis felt someone behind him, and he turned to see Harry. His shoulder had spider tape on it and his face looked pained, but he painted on a smile, and Louis decided now wasn’t going to be the best time to comment. 

 

“Ready, guys?” Harry asked, and they all nodded as Niall made his way to the block to start them off. The buzzer sounded and the splash of ten teams’ first swimmer hitting the water resonated in Louis’ ears. Richards positioned himself on the block, and that left Louis and Harry alone. 

 

“Lou … I’m gonna lose time. Stupid fucking shoulder chose today to be shit,” Harry very nearly whispered, and Louis finally let himself look at him. Harry’s eyes were wide, nervous, and he kept touching his shoulder. Louis’ heart broke for him. 

 

“Don’t worry. I’ll make up the time. Just focus on not hurting yourself, yeah?”

 

Harry looked surprised at Louis’ words, but nodded and made his way to the block as Richards dove in over Niall. Louis pulled Niall out of the pool and bounced on the balls of his feet, preparing himself. Richards made it back and in went Harry, a flash of red appearing amid the blue of the water every time he came up for a stroke. Louis made his way to the block, lowering his goggles onto his eyes as Harry made the turn at the other end of the pool. 

 

As Harry came closer to him, Louis could see just how much time they’d lost. Some of the other teams were already sending their freestyle swimmer in. 

 

“Come on, Harry, come on,” Louis whispered, and Harry’s hand finally touched the wall. Louis launched himself as far as he could into the water, slicing into the coolness of it and making his way to the surface as fast as he could. He had to gain time on them, he had to. He turned his head for air and saw that he was catching up with the lane on his left, which was the team to beat right now. He flipped over, staring straight ahead at the other end of the pool. He was on the home stretch now, his lungs burning from lack of air, but he pushed faster. 

 

His hand tagged the wall and his eyes found the scoreboard, the pool area seeming to go silent around him. He squinted and finally, he could see his team name right at the very top, having won by less than a hundredth of a second. 

 

“Fuck yes!” Louis yelled, throwing his fist in the air. The parents and other team members of the Manchester Megalodons were screaming and clapping and jumping, and Louis felt himself being tugged out of the water by several hands. Niall, Richards, and Harry all collapsed on top of Louis in a many armed hug, cheering for themselves. Louis and Harry were suddenly face to face, and all Louis wanted to do was kiss him, but he didn’t. He just beamed at him, and Harry’s smile was blinding in return. They’d done it. They’d won. 

 

________________________

 

The party was in full swing - every member of the team and their extended family had squeezed themselves into Louis’ home, and Niall had had to run out for more beer three times now, but Louis was loving every moment of it. Here he was, surrounded by his favorite people, having just dominated finals. He couldn’t be happier … except …

 

“Have you seen Harry around?” Louis asked Liam, another member of the team that had just passed him for another beer. Liam shrugged. 

 

“Last I saw, he was headed home. Probably his shoulder or something. I don’t think he’s here.”

 

Louis tried not to pay attention to the sinking feeling inside him at that information. He set his empty bottle of beer next to the trash can, which was overflowing - he’d have to take that out soon - and made his way through the crowd of people, searching for his best friend. 

 

“Niall, there you are! Was just gonna ask you-”, Louis began when he finally found Niall slung over the couch with a few teammates, but his Coach’s voice sounded over the microphone he’d set up for the DJ, and everyone turned in that general direction.

 

“I just want to thank each and every team member for their hard work. Dedication pays off, and I’m so proud of all of you. Come get your medals, and your reward of a week off from practice!”

 

Cheers went up throughout the house and the team made its way to the main room, where Coach was passing around medals. Louis held on to two of them, knowing Harry wasn’t there to collect his. He had an idea, though he wasn’t sure about it, which was why he turned back to Niall again, who was grinning broadly as he looped his medal around his neck. 

 

“What’s up, Lou?”

 

“I wanna take this to Harry. And umm … maybe talk to him, if he wants. But I don’t know where he lives.”

 

Niall’s grin widened. “I do.” Niall reached wordlessly for Louis’ phone and typed in the address. “Atta boy, Tommo. Go get your man. I’ll hold down the fort here. Everyone out by 11 right?”

 

Louis nodded, silently thanking his friend for being the best in the world, and heading to the door to grab his coat. 

 

Harry’s place wasn’t far, so Louis decided to walk, despite the fact that a bitterly cold wind was starting to pick up. He huddled down into his coat and hurried onward, turning down a few streets as he followed the directions on his phone. 

 

He finally came to a stop outside a small but beautiful two-story house. Louis had almost forgotten that Harry still lived with his parents. Louis had always thought he was the only one. With that knowledge, he prayed that Harry was home alone - he really didn’t want to meet his mum for this conversation. 

 

He made his way to the front door and stood there. He knew what he had to do, but for the life of him, he couldn’t raise his hand to knock on the door. He contemplated turning around and going back to the party, but he’d come all the way here for a reason. He needed to suck it up and do it.

 

He knocked once, twice, three times, and then he saw a shadow appear in the lighted window next to the front door. He took a deep breath in as the door swung open. 

 

Harry stood there, looking fresh from a shower, his curls damp and longer than Louis had thought they normally were. Harry’s skin was pink and beautiful and his lips were parted slightly in surprise as he stared at Louis shivering on his doorstep. 

 

“Louis … how do you know where I live?” Harry finally spoke, and Louis shivered even more at the sound of his voice. It did things to him that he wasn’t exactly proud of. 

 

“I … Niall told me. I noticed you weren’t at the party, and then we got medals, and I thought … here.” Louis reached into his pocket and held out the medal. Harry didn’t take it. He just stood there, hiding slightly behind his front door. “I … Umm, just wanted to make sure you got it. I’ll go now, sorry for bothering you.”

 

Louis reached over and pressed the medal into Harry’s palm and turned to go, feeling disappointed in himself that he couldn’t fucking get up the balls to actually talk to Harry. 

 

“Lou, wait.” Louis turned around at the sound of Harry’s voice - it was soft, very unlike his usual brusque tone when talking to Louis. It had been soft a lot more lately, Louis just hadn’t noticed. “You wanna come in? It’s cold - I can make you tea?”

 

Louis shook his head. “Nah, I shouldn’t. Don’t wanna interrupt your night. Just wanted you to have this.”

 

“Louis, really. Please. It’s just tea. I promise, I won’t jump you, or anything.”

 

Harry’s lip curled up in a small smirk and Louis’ insides felt like they were boiling. He hadn’t expected Harry to bring up what they’d done so casually, but now that he was thinking about it, he’d like nothing more than for Harry to take him like that again. He shook himself free of his wandering thoughts and nodded slowly, making his way slowly into the house. 

 

Louis looked around as he followed Harry to the kitchen. The house was warm, friendly, and smelled like a mixture of vanilla and freshly baked bread. As it was, when they entered the kitchen, Harry went to the oven and pulled out three loaves of hard, crusty bread. Louis pretended not to find it adorable that Harry liked to bake. 

 

“Please, sit. I’ll get started on your tea - yorkshire, right?”

 

“How do you …” Louis said slowly, and Harry turned, bestowing a dazzling smile on Louis. 

 

“I paid attention.”

 

Louis felt his cheeks heating up and he looked away as Harry busied himself making tea. Thousands of combinations of words swirled through Louis’ head as he tried to figure out a way to tell Harry that he was halfway in love with him, but each one was more pathetic than the next, and he had a bad feeling that he’d leave here tonight not having said anything, and they’d still be stuck in this awkward limbo. 

 

Harry finally turned with two steaming mugs in his hands and slid one over to Louis, taking a seat on the other side of the table and blowing over the top of his tea. Louis tried not to stare, but it was hard - Harry always looked so soft and pretty. It frustrated him to no end. 

 

Honestly, though, he had no idea how Harry had known what tea he drank. He always brought it in a coffee cup and usually didn’t interact with Harry unless he was insulting him. That thought sent another wave of regret through him and he swallowed a particularly large mouthful of very hot tea to wash the feelings away. 

 

“You really don’t have any idea, do you, Lou?”

 

Harry’s voice startled Louis, and he realized with horror that he must have spoken aloud. He felt his cheeks growing even redder as he registered that Harry had called him Lou. It sounded really sweet coming from his mouth. 

 

“About … what?” Louis asked slowly, lifting his cup to his lips to take another sip of tea. 

 

“Well, that I’m in love with you, for one.”

 

Louis choked and spit tea back into the mug, his eyes bugging out as Harry’s words repeated themselves over and over in his mind.  _ In love with you … in love with you … in love with you … _

 

“You … wait, so you’re …  _ what _ ?” Louis spluttered, his heart pounding twice as fast as it should have been. He could feel it in his throat, and he prayed that he wasn’t dreaming or hallucinating or anything like that. “But we had … and then you said …”

 

Harry shook his head then, looking down, and Louis decided to stop trying to form coherent sentences and listen. 

 

“This is going to sound really stupid, and I hope you’ll hear me out, cause I know I said some things that might have … well, anyway. Yeah. There’s that. I’ve basically been in love with you this whole time. Like … that first day, when I came to the team and you had the whole team laughing about my chubby cheeks and lack of a swimmer’s physique, I should have been embarrassed and upset, and I was, to an extent, but honestly, the only thing I could think about was how endearing you were when you were smiling. Your nose does this little scrunchy thing sometimes when you’re laughing really hard, and you have these tiny crinkles by your eyes. I just couldn’t stop staring.”

 

Louis felt the lump in his throat growing, and he felt like sobbing uncontrollably into Harry’s shirt for some reason, but he bit the inside of his cheek hard and kept his eyes trained on Harry, who was now tugging on a stray curl at the base of his neck.

 

“And after that, you just didn’t leave me alone. You were always joking around, playing pranks on me and making fun of me, and I thought maybe if I looked like you guys or acted more like one of you instead of the annoying new kid, you might start looking at me like I was looking at you. So that’s what I did. I got the body and I got the sass and I gave you a taste of your own medicine, and it still wasn’t working. So I just … when you kissed me in the locker room, all of that, all my anger and annoyance and determination to prove you wrong went right out the window, and all I wanted was to have you. So I … I took you. And I’m really sorry about that, I should have asked first, we should have talked about it or something, but you were right there and you kissed me first and you didn’t ask me to stop. And I … it was everything I ever wanted, everything I had ever dared to hope for.”

 

Louis held up a hand, and Harry’s words faded away as he glanced at him. Louis cleared his throat, pressing his lips together as he tried to form the words he needed. “So what you’re saying is … you’ve been in love with me for months. And instead of telling me about it or asking me out, you decided to, I don’t know, play this pranking game that I started in the hopes that it might clue me in? God, I’m a fucking idiot!”

 

Harry laughed at that, and some of the weight lifted off of Louis’ chest at the sound. “Yeah, that wasn’t very well thought out, was it?”

 

Louis smiled a little, shaking his head. “No, it wasn’t.”

 

There was a short silence between them, where Harry played with the sleeve of his jumper and Louis finished off the last dregs of his tea. Then Harry spoke up again. 

 

“I’m really sorry. For everything. I should have just told you and gotten it over with. I was stupid, really stupid, and I’m sorry about the pranks and the confusion and-”

 

“No, Harry. Don’t. I’m sorry too - I’m as much to blame for this … this mess we’ve gotten ourselves into.” Louis hesitated, but then pushed forward, asking the question that he’d been sitting on since the first time they’d seen each other after the locker room incident. “Do you, umm, regret sleeping with me? I just … I don’t want that one thing to prevent us from being friends or working as a team with swimming, and … I hope we didn’t go too far that we can’t come back from … what?”

 

Louis had finally looked up and Harry was gaping at him like he’d grown tentacles all over his face. 

 

“Regret sleeping with -  _ Louis _ . No, no, never. I couldn’t ever regret that. It was … everything. You were amazing, and I … I got so swept up in it and you and … “ He trailed off, his cheeks the perfect shade of pink, and Louis felt the sudden urge to dive across the table and kiss him breathless. 

 

“So why did you say we shouldn’t date, then?”

 

Harry sighed. “Oh, Lou … I thought you hated me for it. I thought you never wanted to see me again, so I … and it broke me to say that to you, it really did. It wasn’t true, any of it. I, uh, I want to be with you, if that’s what you want.”

 

“Please … please kiss me,” Louis breathed. It was all he could think to say - the all consuming feelings for Harry that he’d been holding back for so long broke through a dam in his chest and he needed Harry, he needed to feel him up against him, he needed those perfect lips on his. Harry nodded and very nearly launched himself out of his seat, rounding the table as Louis stood up to meet him in a kiss. 

 

Harry’s hands were gentle this time, much different than their last kiss, and Louis was all for it. He let his fingers tangle in Harry’s hair and opened his mouth, desperate to taste Harry. Harry’s tongue met his own and he let out a small whine, pulling himself impossibly closer.

 

They both finally pulled away for air, panting as they leaned their foreheads together. Louis felt lighter than he had in weeks, and he closed his eyes as he felt Harry’s fingertips stroking his arm, just barely there, but enough contact to make Louis shiver. 

 

“Harry, I … umm,” Louis started, looking up into those beautiful green eyes, and Harry blinked at him, his lips turning up in a smile. 

 

“Me too, Lou.”

 

__________________________

 

“Styles, you’re up next. If you win this, we’re going to the all-Britain Championships,” Coach said nervously, and everyone looked at Harry. 

 

It was only three weeks since their break had ended and more practicing had begun. Coach had informed the team that Harry, Louis, Niall, and Malcolm had qualified for a regional competition, and they’d been doing extra practice sessions every day to prepare. After a full day of swimming, no one had swum a good enough time to make it to the All-Britain Championships. Harry’s race was the only one left - the 400m Butterfly. 

 

Louis had stayed late with Harry to help him work through his shoulder pain for the last week or so, and Harry had said he was fine, but Louis still worried. He couldn’t comfort Harry, though, because no one knew about them yet, not even Niall. They had wanted to make sure they were making the right choice and get to know each other on that level before telling anyone, but that plan was seriously getting in the way at the moment. 

 

He settled for clapping Harry on his good shoulder, looking up at him and trying to speak as many words of encouragement as he could with his eyes. Harry’s lip twitched upward in the smallest of smiles, and he nodded. Louis backed off to stand with the rest of the team and they waited. 

 

The buzzer sounded and Harry was in the water, already ahead of everyone else in the pool. The team screamed and cheered him on, but Louis stood there, biting his nails and feeling mildly sick. The girl in the lane next to Harry was gaining on him as they made their first turn. 

 

Harry kept the lead as they made their second turn, but as the third turn came up, he lost the lead to the people on either side of him. Louis was inching closer and closer to the edge of the pool as his nerves took hold of him, and no one on the team seemed to notice. 

 

The swimmers turned into their last lap and Louis’ eyes went wide as Harry slowly leveled himself with his competitors, coming closer and closer to the wall. Louis’ eyes shot up to the scoreboard as the names assembled themselves.

 

HARRY STYLES - 1

JESSICA JAMES - 2

HARLEY AVERY - 3

 

Louis jumped into the air, ripping off his cap and whipping it around his head. Harry was beaming and Louis ran for the edge of the pool as other competitors began to climb out. He knelt down, pulled Harry’s face towards him, and planted a kiss on his lips, unable to stop smiling. He realized what he’d done a second later and pulled away, but Harry didn’t seem to care. On the contrary, he pulled Louis into the water with him and kissed him again, holding him close and getting him soaking wet in the process.

 

There were some whistles and laughter from their teammates, but Louis didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything except for Harry. Wonderful, perfect, amazing, beautiful Harry Styles - his Harry. 

 

“I’m so proud of you,” Louis whispered, his words only for Harry’s ears. Harry grinned. 

 

“I know.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave kudos and comments, it would mean the world to me!


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